


Sugar and Spice

by Shelligator



Category: Green Eggs and Ham (Cartoon), Green Eggs and Ham - Dr. Seuss
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sam, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enthusiastic Consent, Fantasizing, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Grinding, Guy Loses it, Guy gets grumpy with a waiter, Hand Jobs, Hotel Sex, Jealousy, Knotting, Loss of Control, Lust, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Power Bottom Sam, Rimming, Rutting, Sam rather likes it, Service Top Guy, Shameless Smut, Smut, Switching, Top Guy, Winter, mention of breeding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shelligator/pseuds/Shelligator
Summary: His heats have never been more than an inconvenience for Guy. But when his heat hits him with a vengeance, Guy finds himself fixating on his best friend Sam I-Am. Terrified by his urges and what it could mean for their relationship, Guy fights to maintain control, a losing battle that ultimately gets the better of him.And Sam wouldn't have it any other way.--------------------------------------------------I still suck at summaries. This is a multi chapter fic to keep things in bite sized chunks! There may be more tags, but nothing to be worried about.Warning for loss of control/primal urges/possessiveness/reference to mating/rutting/breeding (In a dirty talk kind of way). Very consensual. Rated explicit for explicit language/scenes.
Relationships: Guy Am I & Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham), Guy Am I/Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 119





	1. Vanilla and Gingerbread

Vanilla. 

Sam smells like vanilla. It mingles with his natural scent, and even from across the table Guy can smell it clear as day. It fills his nostrils and seems to rush through his blood, pushed through his veins by every harsh thump of his heart.

It makes the Knox sweat as he peers at the other man over the brim of his menu, hot in the thick winter coat he’s grown into. Warmth blooms under his ruff with a vengeance, and he absently rubs and scratches at his collarbone beneath the creamy fur, his lips twisting anxiously.

Sam’s familiar green eyes flick up from his own menu when the movement catches his attention, and one of his slender brows arches as he sits up a little straighter beneath Guy’s gaze, “You okay there bud?”

The directness of the question makes Guy’s fur stand on end. Some scandalous thoughts rear their heads before he can stop them, and he quickly pushes them aside, blushing furiously, “What? Me? I’m fine! ” Guy waves him off clumsily before tearing his eyes away from him, quickly turning his attention back to the menu but not really seeing any of it. It’s all just words for dishes he finds he has absolutely no interest in, his appetite practically nonexistent.

But the Who had insisted he could happily eat for two when he’d dragged Guy out of their shared RV in pursuit of breakfast, and now here they were. He wishes he could be literally anywhere else.

Sam cants his head with an arched brow before rolling his shoulders in a wave, and when his eyes flick down to his menu Guy’s drift up again to resume his staring. Amber eyes track the sunny yellow hand that pushes itself beneath the pink scarf Sam wears, revealing his snowy fur as he absently rubs at the slender column of his neck.

Guy swallows, his mouth quickly growing dry, and he shifts uncomfortably in his fur as his heart pounds in his ears, so loud he's sure Sam can hear it too.

_Sam..._

"And you're sure you don't want anything? This place does a _great_ Green Eggs Benedict! Mmm!" Sam smacks his lips together, lowering his menu to throw Guy a jaunty grin that makes his eyes gleam, "Mouth-watering stuff!"

"Maybe some other time?" Guy attempts to offer amicably, but his smile is shaky even to him, and he lambastes himself for the high pitched, anxious break he hears in his own voice.

"Come on, you look hungry!" Sam presses, his tone insistent, and Guy visibly jolts at his choice of words, his ruff poofing up as it stands on end. The Who blinks in surprise, watching wide eyed as Guy fumbles to smooth it down with a growl of frustration.

"I can assure you I'm not!" He barks dismissively, but quickly regrets it as Sam's face falls, the smaller man sitting back in his seat with a tangible air of resignation. But the deflated look is only on his features for a moment before Sam plasters another glowing smile on his lips, albeit somewhat smaller than it had been moments ago.

"Right! Sorry bud, message received! You can try some of mine when it comes though, if you feel up to it."

Guy wishes more than anything the floor would just swallow him up, hiding behind his menu again as guilt and frustration wrestle for dominance. That smile feels worse than tears, making his gut twist unhappily and his own self loathing flare up with a vengeance.

He shouldn't be taking it out on Sam. His 'predicament' isn't Sam's fault. So after only a moment's hesitation he clears his throat, still not daring to look past the menu. He doesn't trust himself to meet Sam’s gaze again.

"Actually, maybe I could go for a coffee. What would you recommend?"

His efforts are quickly rewarded with the sound of Sam's trademark gasp of awe and enthusiasm, and it takes little for him to imagine the sparkle in Sam's eyes, "Oh _do I_! I know the perfect one! It was… was…”

But the answer is more than what he had bargained for. After a momentary pause the table shakes beneath Guy’s elbows, and before he can register what’s happening Sam’s face comes up and over the edge of the menu, thoroughly invading Guy’s space. With a yelp of surprise and horror the Knox flinches back, taking the menu with him, only for Sam to follow him with dogged determination, trying to catch a glance at the pages.

“Hold still, would you! I can’t pronounce the name, but it’s this one right- huh,” Sam frowns, peering down at the binder as Guy shrinks lower and lower in his seat, the brim of his stovepipe catching on Sam’s till both their hats are pulled askew on their crowns, “Bud, you’re not even on the same page! Silly!”

But Guy can barely register him over the wild thundering of his heart, blood roaring in his ears as all of his fur stands on end. Sam’s face and body consumes his vision and every conscious thought, the scent of vanilla enveloping him and tearing a needy whimper from his lips.

And over the roaring in his ears comes an even louder one, embodying a primal urge so strong it threatens to overwhelm him. Pressure builds up like a howl inside his chest, born from his crotch before rising up to hold his lungs in an iron grip. He doesn’t trust himself to breathe, doesn’t trust himself to say anything for fear of that howl breaking free.

_Mine! Mine, mine, **mine**!_

He needs him so badly. But Sam is so, so _small_. He couldn’t, he mustn’t-

“Hey Guy…?”

Sam’s voice, albeit quiet, is enough to pull Guy back from the edge, and he blinks as he finds the Who’s face dangerously close to his own, so close that he can feel Sam’s breath on the fur of his muzzle and parted lips. Green eyes stare into his own with enough intensity to make Guy squirm, feeling incredibly naked beneath that gaze.

“Yeah?” He barely manages to squeeze the word out, holding the menu in a white-knuckled grip like his life depends on it. He simply can’t let go, lest he do something he’d be sure to regret. His heart beats so fast he’s sure he’ll die, and he almost wishes he could.

Sam arches a brow at him, his pupils flicking this way and that as he searches his eyes. His tongue wets his lips just slightly, but it’s enough to almost make Guy cry. The former con man clearly hesitates before he murmurs, his tone incredulous.

“Do you smell gingerbread?”

Guy doesn’t know how to respond to that, spluttering hopelessly. Sweat beads on his brow and slowly drips from the fur of his cheeks in spite of the chill in the air, and when nothing but broken syllables that don’t even vaguely resemble words tumble from his lips he simply gives up, scrunching his shoulders upwards in a shrug.

Sam frowns, and he opens his mouth to speak again. But Guy is saved as someone clears their throat nearby, and both men look up to find a wide eyed waiter standing at their table, his eyebrows arched high on his brow.

"Er, sorry if I'm interrupting, but can I take your orders?"

Guy barely manages to hold back the sigh of relief that escapes him when Sam straightens, the sunshine convict sitting back in his kneeling position on the table. And yet, a huge part of Guy mourns his absence, instinct and need urging him to follow. It demands he sweep him up in his arms and press his face into the silky crook of his neck, or nibble on his collar bone and-

"I'll have a coffee. Black." Guy grumbles sullenly, pushing himself up in his seat to prop his chin on the heel of his palm. He turns his attention to the falling snow outside with a dismissive growl, frowning at his surly reflection in the glass.

He doesn't miss Sam's look of concern, mirrored in the partially fogged up glass. The waiter looks between the two of them, pen poised over paper, before he seems to remember himself and quickly scribbles it down.

"Right. Coffee. Sure, I can do that. Anything for you sir?"

Guy can feel Sam pull his gaze away from him more than he needs to see it in his reflection, watching with a steadily deepening frown as Sam flashes the other man a broad, enthusiastic smile, "Oh you bet! I'll have a gingerbread latte please, my good man."

The waiter, a lanky Knox with sizable dreadlocks, Guy notes, arches a skeptical brow at his best friend, "I'm sorry? It's like, mid April. That's very much out of season."

Guy pinches the bridge of his nose, his shoulders hunched up and curling inwards as Sam clambers back into his seat with a disappointed frown, "Are you sure? I mean, I just… I could have sworn…"

Sam’s gaze flicks from the waiter to Guy, and the inventor suddenly becomes very interested in the upholstery of his seat, pretending his ruff doesn’t bristle up into a poofy mess at the look thrown his way.

The waiter looks between the two of them, before he offers Sam a small smile, one that has Guy sitting upright again, “If you’re open to recommendations, we do a pretty neat chai latte?”

Sam’s face lights up in the glass, and Guy grits his teeth as angry jealousy rears its head, cantankerous and ugly. It’s too fast for the inventor to rationalize it, and his gaze zeroes in on the waiter as he perks up in the warmth Sam directs his way.

“That sounds great! I’ll have that and your green eggs benedict. Thanks, you’re-”

“Just about done here.” Guy spits over his shoulder, an undercurrent of a growl rumbling in his throat, “You’ve been _fantastic_.”

The pair blink at him incredulously, Sam’s mouth falling open, and the other Knox shifts uncomfortably where he stands, momentarily at a loss for how to respond. It gives Guy no small amount of satisfaction to see him take a step away from the table, writing the order as he goes.

“Thanks. I’ll be right back with that.”

With every step the other man takes away from the table Guy slowly relaxes, uncurling with a quiet sigh under his breath. He sweeps a hand over his face, absently flicking sweat away, only to find Sam staring at him, brows knitted together in unhappy concern.

“Guy…”

“What?” tawny shoulders roll upwards, the inventor trying and failing to not sound defensive.

Sam hesitates, his gaze sweeping over him before searching Guy’s eyes imploringly, making him squirm uncomfortably in his seat “Are… are you-”

“Okay?” Guy cuts him off abruptly, and he presses his palm to his pounding chest, “I’m fine! Peachy, even.”

He’s neither fine, nor peachy. And from the skeptical twist of Sam’s mouth Guy can tell he’s not even halfway convinced either. The Who seems to mull the words over, weighing up his options before he leans forward a little, tilting his head to give Guy what he must hope is an encouraging, disarming look.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he coaxes gently, and under any other circumstances Guy would have melted on the spot to the compassion he hears in his voice. His chest tightens, and gazing back into Sam's eyes he wishes that it was different. Wishes that he could tell him everything.

If only.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Because I’m _fine_.”

Sam deflates, his shoulders slumping, and Guy turns away from him to focus his attention on the window again, guarding himself from Sam's prying looks. 

"Well okay then, I guess."

They sit in weighty silence until their drinks arrive, brought to them by an entirely different waiter Guy notes with no small amount of smugness. If Sam notices he doesn't bring it up, taking a pensive sip of his latte as he regards Guy over the lip of his cup. Those green eyes seem to smoulder through the rising steam, and the Knox gulps down his coffee too quickly, scalding his tongue with a yelp.

Looking down at the offending coffee with a pout, stirring it idly, he's suddenly pulled from his sulky reverie when he hears Sam's trademark gasp. He looks up just in time to see the new waiter place Sam's breakfast on the table, a gooey Green Eggs Benedict. Sam wriggles and bounces in his seat from sheer enthusiasm, beaming down at his plate.

"Ohhhh this is it bud! Look at that, doesn't that smell fantastic?"

It sure smells like egg, and maybe at any other time Guy would agree. But he's too busy trying to look anywhere else other than at the bounce of Sam's body in his seat.

"Eh," he responds absently, daring to attempt another, more cautious sip of his coffee. Sam doesn't seem to register him at all however, engrossed in his breakfast as he wastes no time tucking in.

But soon enough his ears pick up an unmistakable sound, and Guy almost breathes in his coffee mid sip, eyes going comically wide.

Sam is moaning around his fork, slumped forward in his seat with a look of total bliss on his features. His tongue slips past his lips to catch some green yolk and hollandaise sauce before it drips onto his chin, and Guy’s entire body tenses, recoiling in his seat.

“Oh wow that tastes so _good_! You have to get in on this Guy!”

Guy quickly shakes his head, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tries and fails to fight back the whimper in his voice, “Nonononono, I’m good t-thanks.”

Sam smacks his lips together, taking another exaggerated bite of his eggs, “Mmph! Oh man, are you sure? It’s _fantastic_! Just melts in your mouth!” Some yolk drips down the handle of his fork and onto his fingers, and Sam makes a show of licking it off, looking at Guy out of the corner of his eye playfully as if to make his point. He purrs all the while, and the inventor gapes at the sight, a throb shooting through his nethers and eliciting a familiar stirring sensation in his fluffy sheathe.

His face going a brilliant shade of red, Guy quickly turns away from him, mortified and despairing as his desire flares up with wild ferocity, insatiable in its intensity. It sends a tremor through him that shakes his entire frame, and he bites his bottom lip raw against the broken whine that claws its way up his throat. He screws his eyes tightly shut, clapping his hands over his mouth for good measure, but it’s not enough to still the way his flesh cries out for the other man. 

The bombardment is too much for him, and everything that makes him more man than beast starts to unravel. No matter how hard Guy tries to hide the sound, Sam’s moans follow him, filling his vision with the image of Sam’s face flushed and sweaty from the heat of sex. Soon enough Sam’s moans take on a whole new meaning as they echo through the corridors of his heat-struck mind, breathy and smutty.

_Oh Guy, **Guy**!_

_So good, don’t stop!_

_Fuck, oh fuck!_

_Breed me! Give it to me!_

_So good, Guy!_

_Fuck me! Fuck me! **Fuck me!**_

“ **Guy**?!”

That last cry is all too real, high pitched with alarm, and Guy blinks hard, his vision swimming. When it clears he’s shocked to find he’s sprung to his feet, knocking the table askew and sending both coffee and latte flying in every direction. Sam stands in his seat, angling himself to avoid the dripping hot beverages and what remains of his lunch, gaping at him in wide eyed disbelief.

The entire diner goes silent, waiters and patrons staring at the pair with similar looks of slack jawed shock. It’s as if the whole world stops moving to stare at the spectacle he’s become, and Guy comes apart beneath their eyes, fighting desperately for breaths that make his chest and shoulders heave. Everywhere he looks he sees the ever-judging faces of strangers, more than a few smirking in amusement at his expense.

Sam’s plate slides off the table to shatter on the checkered floor, and Guy reels back as the silence is so violently broken, wild eyed and whimpering. His friend flinches at the harshness of the sound before reaching out to him, his face open and desperate as he coos softly.

“Guy? Hey bud, it’s okay-”

But it’s all too much for him. Guy is off like a shot, fleeing from those scorning eyes and the threat of Sam’s touch. He pushes Whos and Knoxes out of the way carelessly, earning a few indignant cries, and when he reaches the door he practically throws his weight against it, stumbling out into the snow.

He doesn’t even have a second to attempt to gather his wits about him before he hears the sound of frantic feet behind him, accompanied by desperate wails of his name. Choking back a wail of panic Guy takes off again, not caring which way he goes as the diner door slams open behind him.

“Guy, stop! Come back! **Please**!”

_Guy! Oh please, please, oh! **Oh!**_

The inventor does no such thing, fleeing faster than either of them has done in months. Muscle memory from his years as a Try-athalon winner works in his favor, but Sam’s legs are longer than his, and soon enough the smaller man is right on his heels, his panted breath reaching Guy’s ears.

“Come on bud! Please! Guy? **Guy!** ”

_Fuck me Guy!_

_Yes, just like that, **yes**! _

But Guy doesn’t answer or slow in his desperate flee, and pedestrians step out of their way with wide eyed confusion as the pair tear past them, kicking up snow. Occasionally they both slip and slide on slush, and their fur gets wet with ice water, but neither of them lets up, cold air stinging their lungs.

Unfortunately for Guy, Sam is as stubborn as he is, and more than twice as reckless. The staccato of Sam’s feet on snowy pavement is interrupted by a grunt of exertion, and next thing he knows Sam lands on his back, his arms looping around Guy's neck. Small but strong yellow hands fist in his ruff, gaining enough leverage to pull himself up the Knox's back.

But Guy surprises them both. Before he knows what he's doing his large autumn hands clamp down on Sam's arms, and with a growl he pulls the smaller man over his shoulder, the former bandit yelping as he goes. The suddenness of the movement makes Guy trip up, sending them sprawling in a flurry of gold and sunset fur, and they both end up in the snowy grass on the side of the pavement, all tangled limbs and disheveled hats. Sam loses his scarf in the process, the knit garment forgotten on the sidewalk.

Sam lands heavily on his back, knocking the wind right out of him, and Guy is quick to follow, his knees coming down hard on either side of him. Overshadowing his friend Guy leans over him, his paws gripping at Sam's shoulders tightly to pin him to the snow beneath them.

Growling, his pupils shrunk down to pinpoints, Guy huffs out a shaky breath through his nose as he leans in close. Sam gasps in a desperate bid for air, the mist of their breaths mingling in the shrinking space between them as Guy's face draws ever closer to his own.

Sam squirms beneath him, wide eyed and red faced by the compromised position he finds himself in. His hands come up to grip loosely at Guy's arms, his slender fingers brushing through his dense winter coat, and Guy's grip on his shoulders shake at the contact, heat building in his gut and pooling in his nethers. Still growling, the sound vibrating deeply in his chest, Guy presses his forehead to Sam's, trying desperately to ground himself as the urge to breed the other man right here and now threatens to overwhelm him.

The Who’s body rolls in a wave, a quiet whimper building up in his throat as he snuzzles his brow against Guy’s own. That overwhelmed and needy sound rises till it escapes Sam's lips in a horny huff that shakes his frame, and he closes his eyes for a moment, shivers coursing through him with the deep breaths he takes. Reveling in the scent of sweat and vanilla Guy can't tell if Sam's shivers are from heat or cold, but when Sam's eyes open again they’re wide with realization, seeming to stare right into the storm that rages in Guy’s heart and mind.

"Gingerbread…" he breathes, awed by his discovery, and he frees a hand from Guy’s forearm to let his fingers trace up the sensitive length of his inner elbow, “That’s… you’re in… oh _wow._ ”

That's enough to shake Guy out of it, and he pulls himself back, his grip on Sam's shoulders loosening. Sam tries to retain his hold on his arms, but Guy easily tugs himself free, sitting upright and scrambling away from him.

"Leave me alone, Sam."

Sam whimpers at the loss, pushing himself up off his back, "Guy, wait, it's okay-"

" **No**!" Guy shouts angrily, all fire and brimstone, and Sam flinches against the sound, his face scrunching up in confusion and chagrin. His lips press together unhappily, and Guy checks himself with a wince, backing away from him with a similar look of misery.

"I'm sorry Sam, I'm sorry. Just… just leave me alone. Please."

Sam opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. His eyes, however, say a thousand words, pleading with him. They burn with something Guy can’t begin to describe, but the longer he stares back at him the more violently his heat rises again, ready to send him into a rut. So before he can fall apart all over again Guy gives him one more apologetic look before he takes off, turning on his heel and fleeing back the way they’d come. 

And this time Sam doesn't follow, abandoned in the snow just as Guy had left him, shocked and very, very lost.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The clock says it’s 18:40. It’s already dark outside the RV, with fresh snow falling slowly but steadily to coat the ground.

And Guy still hasn’t come home.

Sam turns over in his loft bed, hugging a pillow to his chest. Guy’s pillow. Well, technically it’s his, but Guy’s been using it ever since they took to traveling together. He’s too big for the booth downstairs, and even if he wasn’t Sam would sooner Guy got the bed than he did. He’d sleep on the floor if it meant Guy was comfortable.

The bed smells like him, with a few loose strands of marigold fur strewn on the sheets for good measure. Sam’s been taking solace in his scent since he’d given up searching for the larger man, figuring he’d come home when he was ready. But looking at the clock, it steadily dawns on him that perhaps Guy would never be ready to come back after what Sam had seen, and the thought is blind terrifying.

And the thought that Guy wants _him_ is just as profound, making the Who’s head spin. He’s spent hours wrestling with this revelation, unpacking it and scrutinizing it from every possible angle to avoid the heartbreak of outright kidding himself. Sam is a dreamer, spinning fiction that even he can get lost in, like lies that are just too good to not be true. But no matter what angle he comes at it from, Guy’s hungry looks had been reserved for him and him alone. And that had filled him with hope and joy so strong it had driven him to weeping.

It had taken time to realize, but he was wholeheartedly in love with Guy Am-I. The kind of love that makes his life richer, no matter how much his heart aches for the other man. And he’d always wanted him, ever since he’d first let his gaze trace the contour of Guy’s sour profile in Donna’s Diner. Guy was handsome, and appealing to Sam in more than just the softness of his features. The soul that shines so openly in his expressive brown eyes is profoundly beautiful, yet plagued by bitter hurt and loneliness, born from a self-fulfilling cycle of destruction and sabotage.

Sam eyes the clock again, burying his snout into the pillow as he holds it against him more tightly. He knows how susceptible Guy is to self loathing, and based on what he’d seen, the Who was genuinely worried about what this new development meant for them. Guy had literally run from it, and the thought of Guy pushing him away is too much for Sam to bear.

What if he doesn’t feel like he can come home, so afraid is he of hurting those closest to him? What if he can’t fathom that Sam wants him as much as he wants him?

Sam frowns at the thought, worry gripping at his gut. No, that just wasn’t how this was gonna go, not if he had anything to say about it. He refuses to leave Guy alone to wallow in his suffering, and he isn’t prepared to lose him. 

However they get through this, they will do it together. And whatever that means for their relationship, they’ll tackle that as it comes.

The lingering scent of Guy’s heat and this conviction drives Sam to his feet, and he leaps down from the loft to get his things together. He finds a new peach-coloured scarf and wraps that around his neck, considering where his friend might have gone.

If Guy’s heats are anything like Sam’s, he’ll be looking to bunker down for a few days till it passes, away from prying eyes or those looking to take advantage of him. With nowhere else to go, a motel is the most likely bet, and Sam had spotted just the place when they’d first pulled into this little town.

Stepping out into the night and closing the RV door behind him, unlocked in case Guy comes back on his own, Sam hugs himself against the cold before heading out in the direction of the Motel Flerz. Luckily for him it’s not too far off from his RV, and as he walks a plan comes together in his head, though it’s a wild one at best.

Passing by a trash can he spots a discarded pizza box. A little gross, but it should serve its purpose. He scoops it up and holds it against the crook of his arm as he goes, and when he rounds a corner to spot the motel, standing against the treeline that marks the edge of town, he fishes a scrap of paper and his RV keys out of the lining of his hat.

The building itself is a sprawling multi story log cabin, with rows of rooms accessed by balconies. With the sheer number of cars outside the place seems pretty busy, but that doesn’t deter Sam in the slightest as he makes his way up the path to the front entrance. In fact, it works in his favor.

Pushing his way inside the warmth of the lobby rushes up to greet him, and he trembles against the temperature change, taking a moment to scan the room. A few guests stand at the checkin line, but he moves right past them, attention on a rather tired looking desk clerk.

“Hey man, can you help me out?” Sam drawls casually. He adjusts the pizza box on his arm to give it the appearance of weight, fumbling with his other hand to get his scrap of paper, “I’ve got a pizza delivery here for a Mister… Guy Am-I?”

The clerk looks him over, and Sam arches a brow at him, playing idly with his keys.

“Good evening sir, Is he one of our guests?”

“You know about as much as me man, all I have is a name and an address.”

The clerk gives him a somewhat strained smile, eying the queue of unhappy guests behind him, “If you just give me a moment to help these guests, I can get a colleague to-”

“Oh I feel you dude, believe me. But I’m in a jam here.” Sam gives him a pained look, waving his keys, “My job is on the line here, I really can’t afford to deliver another cold pizza, and I have two more pizzas to deliver on my scooter outside.”

He gives the clerk the most imploring look he has in his arsenal, and the other man squirms, his gaze shifting from Sam to the queue and back.

“I understand, just one second please.”

Sam flashes him a relieved smile before he can pour over the hefty ledger in front of him, “Thanks man, you’re the best.”

After a moment the clerk looks up, his finger pressing down against the paper to hold his place, “Ah yes, I have him right here. If you leave the pizza with us I can get one of our-”

But Sam waves him off gently, already taking a broad step away from the counter, “Nah don’t worry bud, you guys seem real busy. And I like to get the job done myself, this ‘Guy’ dude sounded really pissed off already. What room is he in?” 

One of the guests immediately steps up to the counter to take Sam’s place, and the clerk splutters in alarm, trying to attend to both of them “Oh! My apologies ma’am, one moment- er, right, Room 21, second floor.”

Sam waves his hat to him with a sweeping motion before veering off towards the stairs, and he takes them two at a time. When he reaches the second floor he crams the empty box into a nearby dustbin before continuing out onto the landing, adjusting his scarf somewhat nervously.

It isn’t long before he finds Guy’s room, and he shifts on the spot, a heavy weight in his gut from nerves. But he only hesitates for a moment before rapping his knuckles against the door, all big smiles and carefree charm.

“Hey bud? Guess who’s popped by to pay you a visit? You have three guesses~!”

Almost immediately there’s a low shout from the other side, laced with an unhappy growl, “Go away, Sam!”

Sam rubs his fingers together, leaning his shoulder against the door with a giggle, “Wow, right on the first try, colour me impressed!”

Just as he expects there’s no chuckle from the other side, but when he’s met with total silence he chews on his bottom lip anxiously, considering his words. He drops the cheer from his tone, opting for a tender, earnest one that he hopes Guy can still hear, “Look, I… I know you want to be left alone. I get it, I do. But _please_ just hear me out. Okay? Can you let me in?”

But still he gets nothing for his efforts, and he pushes off the door to shift his weight from one foot to the other, eying the door knob with a furrowed brow.

Perhaps…

Steeling himself he reaches out to grasp the handle, and with a quiet breath he turns it slowly, his lip caught between his teeth. It goes easily however, and Sam’s mouth falls open when he feels the latch retract with a quiet click.

It was never locked to begin with.

Did Guy want this? Was that a wild leap to make, to think he wanted to be found?

Sam swallows, his mouth dry, and he calls out as he opens the door just a crack, “I’m coming in, okay? Guy?”

But when he pushes the door open the rest of way the heat hits him like punch to the gut, warm air and the spicy, heavy scent of primal sex rushing up to meet him. And Sam trembles where he stands, that delicious smell filling his nose and sending electric sparks arcing through his blood as it rushes South.

“Oh… _fuck_ …”


	2. Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's never been one to leave Guy behind, and that's certainly not going to change now. As hard as Guy tries to push his love away, Sam's resolve is unshakable. Guy's on the other hand crumbles in the face of his need for him, the Knox finally coming undone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this Chapter: Rough sex (hair pulling, biting, manhandling), animalistic/frustrated sex (Guy goes into a rut. Guy is desperate to enter Sam, but Sam keeps grinding and teasing him by wiggling out of the way of his attempts to line up to him. Sam thoroughly enjoys it, and it's still safe and consensual). This is hardcore explicit sex :)
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and support guys, it means so much to me! <3 I really hope you like this chapter, and there'll be more on the way. Hopefully just as quickly!
> 
> And thank you to my wonderful friend for drawing this cover art for me, I love it so much *screams into hands* <3
> 
> Comments are super appreciated! Let me know what you guys think and if there's anything you'd like to see :)

Sam quickly slaps a hand over his lips, cursing his big mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that outloud. His manhood stirs, and he's immediately grateful for his dense skirt of fur as it hides the flare of his excitement.

But then again, who could blame him? If the scent of Guy’s heat had been strong before, it was positively overwhelming now, hanging thick in the air throughout the room. The air is like a wall in front of him, so warm that he has little need for the scarf around his neck when he takes a cautious step inside.

The room is fairly large and dimly lit, the only light source being a warm yellow glow from a lamp in the corner. There’s a kitchenette and a living room with an unlit fireplace, and at the very back a darkened archway leads to the bedroom and bathroom beyond.

But none of that is in any way out of the ordinary. No, what stops Sam from venturing deeper into the room is the massive pile of cushions and blankets taking up a significant portion of the floorspace ahead of him, blocking entry to the bedroom and kitchen. The couch has been stripped bare of all cushioning, everything from the base to the scatter cushions, and he’s sure he can make out what’s undoubtedly the bed’s pillows and duvet thrown in amongst it all, forming a makeshift nest.

As Sam’s eyes adjust to the half light he slowly closes the door behind him, and he spots that den shift out of the corner of his eye.

“I didn’t say you could come in.” Guy points out grumpily from somewhere within his hideaway, and Sam purses his lips, eying the pile of pillows as it shifts more noticeably.

“And you left the door unlocked.” Sam shoots back in an attempt at playfulness, taking a few tentative steps forward.

He just about manages to catch Guy's quiet grumbles in the depths of his pillow fort, half-hearted excuses and awkward blustering so muffled by fabric that Sam can only just barely make them out. So when Sam doesn't give him a response the pillows finally fall aside to reveal the flustered face of his friend, glaring at him much like how he'd once cowered in the life jackets all those months ago, "So you just invited yourself in?"

Sam takes a moment to take in Guy's dishevelled appearance, green eyes sweeping over his face. Now hatless, Sam can make out the scruffy mess of his thick fur as it points every which way, beads of sweat leaving trails down the side of his face. His bottom lip seems to have been chewed ragged, plump from the constant abuse his teeth inflict on it. He makes no effort to hide the greedy sweep of his brown eyes over Sam's body, and the Who shivers beneath his gaze, feeling more than a little naked. At least before Guy had tried to be furtive about it.

"Yeah it’s a little unorthodox, I'll give you that," Sam concedes with a few casual waves of his hands, and his heart almost skips a beat when he sees Guy's eyes follow them intently. He stills his movements, not quite sure what to do with himself “I just wanted to make sure my boo’s okay.”

“I’m fine, for the most part.” Guy grumbles bitterly, and he cants his head pointedly towards the door, his words permeated with a growl of warning and frustration, “Now would you please leave me alone?”

His casual facade steadily slipping, Sam rubs the back of his neck, his shoulders slumping as he searches Guy's eyes. Amber eyes flecked with gold stare back at him, piercing in their ferocity, and in spite of himself Sam shifts his weight from one foot to the other. The heady scent of Guy's pheromones and the unabashed way his eyes take all of Sam in seems to seep into every fibre of his being, arousal and adrenaline making his heart work overtime. 

But through it all worry grips at his chest, deep-seated abandonment issues niggling away at him, and he's forced to look away as he rubs absently at the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. “Hey, at least fine’s a start, right? I’m glad, I got worried when you didn’t come home…”

“And I don’t intend to.” Guy snaps, but when Sam visibly flinches, betraying the panic that flares in his heart, the Knox seems to remember himself, his face falling. He grimaces before leaning forward to offer up an apologetic look, his voice soft and pained, “I'm sorry, I didn't- I didn’t mean it like that. Not now, is all I meant. Not with… w-well, you know.” 

Guy mumbles this last part sheepishly, squirming in place a little as he hugs a pillow tightly to his chest. He takes to chewing on his bottom lip again as he pointedly looks away, self conscious and embarrassed to bring it up. Sam swears he hears a whimper, the inventor struggling to keep himself together.

He wishes he wouldn't.

Surrounded by Guy’s heat and watching the other man fight to maintain his flimsy grasp on control, Sam dares to feel more desirable than he’s ever felt. He takes a step forward and casually reaches up to pull his scarf from around his neck, revealing the dishevelled fur of his throat and collarbone as he speaks slowly and deliberately, "Yeah, I do."

Guy visibly stiffens, cheeks reddening, and Sam can't help but feel his cheeks do the same when Guy's eyes flick back to him. Both men seem to stop breathing as Sam regards him, and with the events of that day hanging heavy in the air between them they stare into each other's eyes, open and vulnerable and burning up with desire so strong it threatens to end them both. Sam hopes he can see it, hopes he can see how much he wants him as he takes another step closer, discarding his hat as he goes.

The closer he gets to him the stronger Guy’s scent becomes, and Sam feels his knees weaken, barely able to support him as nervous butterflies burst into a flurry in his stomach. Guy swallows, his breath coming a little faster as his eyes hungrily take in the flush of Sam’s cheeks and slender curve of his neck.

“Sam,” Guy warns breathlessly, leaning forward in spite of himself as he desperately presses his pillow to his body, like it’s his life jacket in a stormy sea, “I…”

Sam takes in the dents Guy’s large hands leave in the pillow as he crushes it to himself, and he yearns to feel him hold him like that. Warmth stirs in Sam's groin at the memory of Guy's hands on him, of the weight of his beloved's hips on his own. How for an exhilarating moment Guy had been ready to mate with him then and there in the snow, and Sam would have let him.

He would certainly let him now.

“You don’t always have to do everything by yourself, you know.” Sam breathes, his heart in his words, and he tilts his head to look at Guy through eyes heavy-lidded with lust and soft with tender longing, “We’re a team, remember? Dream team.”

Guy’s eyes widen, a shudder running through him as he considers those words. Needy whines fall from his smouldering lips, and Sam stops his advance to give Guy time, offering him an imploring look that he fervently hopes will reach him.

Breathing heavily through his nose, sweat steadily beading on his brow, the inventor tenses in a wave, his shoulders hunching upwards. It's with a monumental effort that he pulls himself back, burrowing deeper into his nest, and the downward turn of his lips makes Sam's stomach sink through the floor beneath him.

“I think… it's better for the both of us if you leave, Sam." Guy says despondently, tearing his eyes away from him. He releases his pillow to grab at his ears in despair, fretting with them and tugging them down harshly.

Sam blinks incredulously, reflexively flinching against those words as his hands curl at his chest. For a moment his heart is heavy with the sting of rejection, counterarguments jostling for position on the tip of his tongue. But Guy’s broken whimpers of agonized frustration give the Who pause, regarding him silently as the pieces finally fall into place in his head.

No one is better at putting Guy down than Guy himself. Those words are an echo of what Guy told Michellee all those months ago in the cabin, the words of someone used to hurting himself as often as others have hurt him and vice versa. How often has Guy gotten in the way of his own happiness? He probably doesn’t even know he does it.

But if that's the way he wants to play it...

With a heavy sigh of exasperation Sam throws his hands wide, rolling his eyes skyward, “Suit yourself then,” he gives the other man one last look over before turning on his heel, “We’ll do it your way, bud.”

Guy lets out a long trembling breath that’s both relieved and pained, and Sam can feel his eyes boring into his back as he goes, following him to the door, “I’m… I’m sorry Sam, I just… I just can’t, I shouldn’t-”

But Guy stops talking as Sam goes straight past his hat and scarf, leaving them where he’d left them. The Who pauses at the door, the fur on the back of his neck standing on end as Guy goes completely silent, his eyes following Sam’s every movement with predatory intensity.

Unable to keep the smirk from playing on his lips, Sam reaches up with a palpable air of smugness to slide the latch on the door, locking it with a resounding click. It sounds weighty in the intensity of the moment, piercing the tense silence that hangs heavy in the pheromone-rich air around them.

And then there’s the quiet rustle of pillows behind him. Followed, more alarmingly, by the thuds of rapidly approaching feet on the floorboards.

The Who spins around, and just like that Guy is rushing forward to meet him, a speeding train of rabid Knox fur. Sam squeaks in surprise, stepping back against the door as his space is invaded so suddenly, and his eyes widen as Guy’s large palm slams against the door beside his head. In an instant, Guy’s face is dangerously close to his own, his breath washing over him in heavy pants that shake the man’s entire frame. His pupils have shrunk to feral pinpoints, and for a moment his teeth are tightly gritted in a savage snarl, lips pulled back to bare his canines.

But then Guy lets the momentum bring him closer still, making Sam’s heart falter in his chest. Guy's face brushes past his own, and Sam follows him out of the corner of his eye, his tiny body rigid as the inventor's breath tickles his neck and shoulder.

"I thought I told you to leave…" he growls, his voice ominously quiet, and Sam breathes in deeply, reveling in the sweet and spicy scent of Guy’s musk as it washes over him, stronger than ever with his proximity to him. Every wave of Guy's breath on his neck sends electric sparks singing through his veins, tingles dancing on his fur, and he gives into the urge to rub his cheek against Guy’s own with a subtle turn of his head, his lips tantalizingly close to his ear.

“Yeah, you did. And I don’t want to,” Sam purrs softly, and he’s rewarded by Guy’s sharp intake of breath, his large hand curling against the door beside his head as his entire body tenses up. The Knox lets the air out in a strangled whine of need, and he nuzzles his cheek against Sam’s own, gritting his teeth against the sheer force of his desire. 

Guy doesn’t dare to move otherwise, looming over Sam’s tiny body as he presses his sweaty brow to the door. His lips twist with a pained grimace, and when he speaks his voice is small and strained, as if it takes a great effort to keep conversing, “You don’t know what you’re dealing with here, Sam.”

“Oh, I absolutely do,” Sam counters, and he brushes his parted lips against Guy’s ear with his murmured words, letting out a heated breath that tickles his autumn fur “And I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to be just fine.”

His beloved's face goes the most endearing shade of red at the implications of his words, a tiny whimper bubbling up behind his tightly closed lips. And to make sure the message sticks, Sam lovingly caresses his snout against that blushing cheek, pressing kisses into his fur as he goes.

There was little doubt about the strength of Guy's desire, and now there could be absolutely no doubt that it’s reciprocated by the former heister. He wasn't afraid, and whatever the perceived threat was, they'd get through it together, like everything else they'd tackled since they met each other.

Guy's breathing picks up again, air rushing through his nose to wash over Sam's snowy fur. He angles himself to eagerly press his muzzle against Sam's own, like he couldn't be close enough to him, and Sam whimpers at the contact, a juxtaposition of tenderness and animalistic want that can't be conveyed through words. Summer hands reach up to brush through the creamy fur of Guy's neck ruff, and he's rewarded when that dense fur poofs up beneath his fingers, standing on end with electrified desire.

"Sam" Guy gasps against the sensation, his dense lashes tickling Sam's cheeks as they snuzzle their faces together. He pleads nervously, his voice strained "I can't hold on like this… I don't want to hurt you…"

"You're not going to." Sam encourages gently, and he drags his lips along Guy's cheek, coaxing him to turn his head till he can nibble at the fluff of his ear again, "I want you, Guy."

"Oh _yip_ , I want you too," Guy whines desperately in answer, screwing his eyes tightly shut against the graze of Sam's teeth on the sensitive curve of his ear, "Please, _please_ Sam, I want you so badly!"

Sam's head spins, his world lurching on its axis at the sound of those words- they're more beautiful than he could ever imagine them to be, and oh he’d definitely tried. He’s lost count of how many times he’s daydreamed hearing those words, or furtively touched himself late at night to the imagined sound of Guy’s pleasured cries and pleas echoing through his head.

“That’s what I like to hear, boo.” Sam purrs, his voice deep and thrumming with desire, and Guy bites his lip ragged at the sound, a growl rising up from his chest. Suddenly the Knox attempts to straighten, meeting Sam's gaze with a wild look of exhilaration and panic.

“But Sam-” He sucks in a frantic breath, and Sam watches the knox begin to come undone, falling apart at the seams as he pulls his hand from the wall to grab at Sam’s side with an air of urgency, fingers pressed tight against the small of his back “I-I’ve never done this, I can’t stop-”

Sam opens his mouth to try to soothe him, his own body burning up with an incredible need that mirrors Guy's own, but he catches something out of the corner of his eye, something that steals any words he may have had for him. In spite of himself he tears his eyes away from Guy's, only half registering that the heat-stricken inventor goes completely still as Sam directs his attention downwards with a sharp intake of breath.

Guy's straining cock stands proudly in the space between them, a fat rod of pulsing burgundy flesh. It's come free from its sheath to drip precum readily, and Sam watches wide eyed as it twitches, a drop of pre leaving a glistening trail as it falls. He's bigger than Sam had imagined him to be, a girthy breeding tool of note above heavy balls that make the conman's knees pitifully weak, and his gaze lingers on the bulb at the base, a suggestion of the knot he sports. The whole thing seems to shake and heave with every laboured breath his friend takes in, angled towards Sam’s stomach rather than pointed straight up as it dips somewhat under its own weight.

" _Cordon Bleu_ …" Sam murmurs breathlessly, awestruck by the display, and he squirms as he feels a demanding throb course through the length of his own erection, the sunny tufts of fur that make up his skirt lifted to show off the dripping tip of his pink cock. His hips angle forward of their own accord, as if to close the distance and grind his aching manhood against Guy's delicious looking prick.

But a quiet growl draws his focus back, and the former convict looks up to meet Guy’s gaze. Sam finds the Knox staring even more intently, their faces so close that their noses almost brush together. Sam swallows, feeling very much on the cusp of being devoured when Guy's body visibly tenses, poised to spring into action.

All it takes is another little push.

"What makes you think I'd want you to stop?" Sam teases playfully, a lopsided smirk on his lips, and he leans in closer still, their lips teasingly close together as Sam's hand reaches out between them. Guy growls in warning, lips pulled back into a pained snarl, but Sam is hearing none of it as his nimble heisters fingers finally find the slippery tip of Guy's cock, catching precum on his furred fingertips to paint it along the underside of his fat girth with deliberate slowness.

Guy's reaction is instantaneous, a lewd moan spilling from his lips as his eyes roll upwards. His looming form trembles, and Sam’s mouth falls open as a hot gush of preseed spurts from Guy’s cumslit to splatter the summer fur of his wrist. He barely has a second to react before the Knox surges forward, pushing Sam's significantly smaller body up against the door firmly enough to lift his feet off the floor. It’s a clumsy press, their size difference forcing Sam to lean to the side somewhat to maintain his awkward hold on Guy’s dick, with his arm trapped uncomfortably between them. His feet kick and flail at the air for purchase, and he spreads his legs wide to wrap them around Guy’s midriff, his heels digging into the plush flesh of his back and ass for leverage. If it hurts the Knox he doesn’t seem to notice or care, lost to his rampant desire and the feeling of Sam’s body flush against his.

The air is forced from Sam's lungs in a rush, and he lets out a low cry when Guy buries his face into his sensitive neck, forcing his head to one side none too gently to expose it for him. Hot breaths come like the push and pull of the tide to wash over his throat, and suddenly Guy's large hands are roaming all over him greedily, roughly palming whatever he can reach of Sam's slender body. Sam does his best to press himself into those wonderfully large hands, but Guy's weight keeps him haphazardly pinned, leaving him to the mercy of his soon-to-be mate.

And then Guy's dick grinds needily into the loose half-circle of Sam's hand, mindlessly chasing friction, and when Sam tightens his grip on him to pump his length the taller man keens into his shoulder, the sound muffled by golden fur. Throwing his head back to bare his teeth in a snarl, eyes screwed tightly shut, Guy fucks Sam's hand with quick, powerful thrusts that Sam has to brace himself for, the Who looking up at him in wide eyed disbelief.

Sam wasn't prepared for such ferocity, the display a hint of what it will be like to be pinned and claimed by him. It makes his heart race, and with an ardent groan of his own he attempts to grind his prick against Guy's stomach, rubbing himself off against his tawny fur.

The sounds that spill from Sam’s lips only seem to intensify Guy’s rut, liberal spurts of preseed fountaining from his length to coat Sam’s hand. His face flushed and sweaty with sex the Knox leans down to rub his muzzle gainst Sam’s throat and jawline, whines and growls sending vibrations through his heated skin. The smell of sex and gingerbread hangs thick in the air, and the two quickly get drunk off of it, drowning in one another.

It’s only when their mouths frantically find one another that the two momentarily still in their wanton grinding. Overwhelmed and shivering in their embrace they devour each other’s mouths, gasping for breath between the demanding presses of their lips. It’s a sloppy, clumsy display, both hindered and fuelled by their wild need, and Sam’s overjoyed to find Guy tastes as good as he smells as his soft tongue dances with his own.

Sam’s sure they’re going to keep fucking against the door like this till they cum, and he definitely wants to despite the awkwardness of the position, insistently grinding his erection against Guy’s stomach. But suddenly Guy’s arms wrap around him fully, peeling him away from the door, and Sam pries his lips away from him to gasp for breath as he’s quickly carried to the now caved-in pillow den Guy had abandoned.

It’s with very little dignity that Sam is dropped face down on all those pillows and blankets, and the conman groans into the luxuriously soft fabric, his limbs stiff and uncomfortable after his compromised position. Grunting quietly he attempts to stretch his limbs, his dick rubbing up against the textured surface of a scatter cushion, but soon enough he feels the nest shift beneath Guy’s weight as he joins him, the Knox settling on his knees behind him.

And then those large hands are on him again, his Guy leaning over him and clumsily manhandling the tiny Who up onto all fours. Sam’s eyes widen, and he gasps as those fluffy sunset arms wrap tightly around him, hugging him to the solid heat of Guy’s stomach and torso.

“Guy!” Sam cries out, his head craning back against Guy’s shoulder as he feels the other man reposition his knees between his legs. It forces Sam’s legs to spread wide to accommodate him, and he moans wildly, instinctively pressing and grinding the doughy cheeks of his ass up against Guy’s twitching cock. He feels the sheer hot mass of it, and with their size difference the tapered head of that fat rod prods at Sam’s dick and the dip of his groin with every awkward move Guy makes to mount him.

His prospective mate can only whine needily near Sam's ear in answer, dry humping the former bandit as one of his large hands splays against the yellow expanse of his toned chest. Sam's heart beats wildly against that warm palm, and the smaller man wails in cockdrunk need and ecstasy as Guy gives him a firm thrust, rocking his entire frame with the sharpness of the motion.

It’s only when Guy starts to shift his hips with clumsy urgency that Sam cottons on to his intent, his buddy instinctively trying to drag his erection along Sam’s groin in search of his entrance. The sensation of Guy’s ungainly attempts to line himself up to him makes Sam’s cock throb with need, his ass feeling terribly empty without him. The prospect of being stuffed and fucked full of cum by the heatstruck Knox makes Sam deliriously horny, and he pants and moans his desire for Guy to hear in time to every brush of that wet cockhead over his hole. Every needy prod against him paints him with pearly strings of preseed that connect his puckered hole to Guy’s cumslit, quivering in the air with his erratic movements before dripping to the pillows beneath them.

But even through the haze of dizzying heat Sam slowly registers that coming together like this would be one of the dumbest ideas they’ve ever had, having made no effort to lube himself up or stretch himself out for the sheer size of Guy’s length. It doesn’t make the animalistic persistence of their grinding any less exciting however, and he starts to teasingly swirl and roll his hips, making Guy’s already uncoordinated and fruitless endeavor positively impossible, much to Sam’s amusement.

It succeeds in turning the inventor into a mindlessly rutting mess, whimpers and growls of frustration tumbling from his lips as he’s so cruelly denied. The welcoming warmth of his mate is so close yet so infuriatingly far out of his grasp, and every time Sam wiggles his hole away from the tip of his prick when it gets so tantalizing close Guy lets out broken whines and growls of frustration, trying and failing to stop Sam’s lecherous squirming.

“Oh bud, I admire your enthusiasm, believe me,” Sam coos playfully, tilting his head to see Guy’s grimacing face as the conman teasingly grinds up against his searching cock, “But it’s not self lubricating you know.”

Guy seems to break down in his desperation, his shoulders shaking as he leans down to bury his face in the fluffy tuft of Sam’s cheek. “Fuck!” he whines with a dry sob, all of him protesting the lack of friction against his manhood, “ _ **Fuck!**_ Sam, please, _please!_ ”

Fuck, that begging really does it for him, a throb coursing through Sam’s length that brings with it a generous gush of arousal. It’s like Guy needs to fuck for his life, convinced he’ll die unless he cums in the heat of his lover. It feels so good to be wanted, and Sam turns his head to pepper Guy’s tormented face with loving kisses that do little to soothe him.

“You want to cum in me, my Guy?” he teases wickedly, and agonized whimpers spill from Guy’s lips, his cheeks red as he mindlessly grinds his hips against Sam’s own. His arms tighten around Sam’s tiny body, holding him in place as he tries in vain to come together with him.

“ **Sam!** ” Guy howls, and he shifts to bury his face in the back of Sam’s neck, his breath trembling as it warms the dip between the Who’s shoulder blades. His cock misses Sam’s entrance a couple more times, and when his lover's entire body quakes with his tormented frustration Sam takes pity on him, an idea coming to mind.

He couldn’t give Guy all that he wanted, not immediately at least, but he could give him the next best thing.

Angling himself, Sam lowers his torso, bringing it closer to the cushions beneath them. Guy growls in protest, instinctively gripping him tighter, but when Sam raises his hips the Knox’s cock slips downward past his ass to meet Sam’s dick again. That large red shaft rubs and glides against the slick underside of Sam’s smaller rod, and both men gasp out in blissful relief as it sends electric pleasure shooting through them, making their toes curl.

“That’s the ticket,” Sam swoons, stirring his hips in a circle to clumsily rub and drag their hardons against one another, their pulsing flesh catching and prodding, sharing strings of arousal. Guy is a lot more liberal with his preseed than Sam is, and the Who gasps with delight with how wet his cock quickly becomes, coating his shaft and balls to heighten his pleasure.

Guy seems to melt above him, like an addict finally getting his fix, and he tucks his chin into his ruff as his face contorts in a silent moan of ecstasy, eyes fluttering closed. But steadily Guy seems to tense and tighten against Sam again, his muscles flexing against his back as his need to breed flares with awe-inspiring intensity. The Knox manhandles Sam till he’s more flush against him, totally enveloping his small frame with his own, and Sam mewls when he feels Guy's warm breath wash over the fur of his shoulder. It's soon followed by Guy's teeth sinking into his fur in a possessive and dominating bite, his beloved growling wildly into his flesh as his hips start to thrust against him with frantic urgency.

"Oh, oh Guy!" Sam moans unabashedly, fuckdrunk and buckwild in Guy's possessive embrace. Guys fingers lace through his silky fur, and one of his hands slowly drags upward to cup Sam’s throat and chin, fingertips resting loosely on the pillowy curve of the Who’s bottom lip.  
It only makes Sam voice his lust more loudly, but even his wailing does little to drown out the slaps of Guy's hips against his ass or the savageness of the inventor's growling "Just like that, oh fuck! Guy! **Guy!** "

His words egg Guy on, and Sam revels in the demanding way he fucks him, in every hard grind and sweep of that knotted manhood on his as it pistons back and forth. Every thrust shakes and jolts him in Guy's arms, and Sam can barely think over the intensity of it, fucked senseless and drowning in everything that is Guy Am-I.

Not one to be outdone, Sam attempts to grind his hips to meet Guy's pounding thrusts, but it seems the Knox is having none of it. He gives Sam a couple of particularly angry thrusts in a show of dominance, cocks clumsily jostling together, and Sam feels one of the arms around him loosen and pull free. It's soon followed by the firm push of Guy's hand on the back of his head, dragging up through the snowy fur of Sam's crown till it fists in his hair. Gasping out in wide eyed shock Sam's head is pulled up and back by his hair, craning his neck to expose his throat before Guy moves his maw from his shoulder to his neck, biting down on him hard enough to leave marks.

That seems to spell the end for both of them. The former bandit cries out his pleasure with little regard for who might hear, his body tightening with the threat of his release. With Guy sucking and nibbling on his sensitive neck, hand tugging hard on his hair, Sam quickly falls apart, cumming harder than he ever thought he could. The world becomes a chaotic mess of ecstasy, all his senses bombarded by the smell of heat, the promise of being bred by his beloved, and the sheer ferocity with which Guy claims him. 

And soon enough Guy is cumming too, the Knox releasing his hold on Sam's throat to let loose a wild moan of pleasure into his fur. He presses himself hard against Sam, jerking his hips in time to the thick bursts of cum that spew from his cock to soak Sam's shaft and stomach. There's an incredible abundance of it, some going so far as to splatter against Sam's chest, and he quickly feels the unmistakable swell of Guy's knot, that thick bulb pressing up against the junction between his balls and asshole. It’s a tease of what it would be like to have that knot inside him, putting pressure on all the right places as it fills him so thoroughly.

They ride out their orgasms like that, coating each other in pearlescent seed, quietly whimpering against the electrictrifying pleasure that washes over them in waves, tensing in time to them. Feeling Guy’s hold on his hair loosen Sam gets a chance to look down, eying the mess they’ve made of his stomach and the pillows beneath them. He’s floored by how much cum Guy has to give, and even now while Sam still dribbles a few lazy spurts Guy’s length is like a fountain, the wet patch beneath them getting steadily larger.

When there’s nothing but aftershocks left, their overly sensitive members still rubbing against one another, Guy lets out a shaky sigh, his body untensing before he falls onto his side, bringing Sam with him. He goes without protest, his limbs turned to jelly, and he’s grateful when Guy turns him over to face him in their embrace, the Knox pressing his face into the crook of Sam’s neck.

“Oh gosh…” Sam breathes, completely floored and at a loss of what to say. He can barely string himself together, let alone his thoughts. But through it all he’s very aware of Guy’s earnest nuzzles into his chest, the Knox rubbing all of his face against him. It helps to ground him, and when Sam lovingly pets and strokes at his ears and crown Guy moves up his neck to press their snouts together, shaky hums rumbling in his chest.

“I… I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asks tentatively, and when Sam meets his eyes they’re clearer than they’ve been in hours, his mind released from the shackles of his heat for this moment, “I’m sorry, it’s… it’s so hard, I-”

“Sssh” Sam whispers softly, lovingly tracing his fingers along Guy’s jaw, “Not at all bud. At least not in any way I didn’t like.”

Guy lets out a shaky sigh of relief against Sam’s lips, and the two men pause, searching each other's eyes. The moment seems weighty and clear, their hearts open and vulnerable in the new territory they find themselves in. So when they move as one to gingerly press their lips together, with very little of the greed and hunger they’d been smothered in moments before, the gesture says a thousand words. It’s soft and tender, earnest in its sincerity, and they both can’t help but smile against each other's lips, threatening to turn into big goofy grins as their stomachs do giddy backflips.

They keep kissing each other indulgently, peppering kisses over their sweaty faces, and Guy moves from Sam’s face to his neck to kiss the bruises and teeth marks beneath the fur of Sam’s neck and shoulder. They don’t hurt too much, just a dull ache that pleasantly reminds him of their courtship. And when Guy takes to sucking on his neck again, painting letters into his fur with the tip of his tongue, a heated shudder courses through them both, their dicks still very much hard and straining against one another. It’s almost as if Guy hadn’t come at all, still rock hard against him.

“We’re doing that again…” Sam purrs, and Guy lets out a long, heavy sigh against his throat, the sound steadily morphing into a growl as Guy needily presses his dripping cock to Sam's abdomen with rapidly growing urgency.

“Oh fuck, _please…_ ”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter is already on the way, so shouldn't be too long a wait. (And I mean it hasdfjk)  
> I hope you guys liked it! Please leave a kudos and a comment, they mean a lot to me <3  
> Also I'm kind of attached to the waiter, I may just draw him.


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